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WEST WIND OVER EDORAS	By : Silverfrost Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Het - Male/Female Views: 17715 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings book series and movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: The characters and places here are not mine, all but a few are Tolkein's genius. If it's in LOTR, Silmarillion, Hobbit or Unfinished tales it Tolkien' s. If not it's mine.
No profit in this but the fun of writing and getting to play in Middle earth for a while.

Chapter Two:

EVERMIND
ROWANNEN:

When the song finished, I found I was holding my breath again. I heard the movement of water as Legolas left the tub and walked around the room. I could barely imagine what he must look like. I was familiar with my brothers and knew a little of Theodred�s body in both life and death but the Elf was surely different. He had a glow about him and a fineness even fully clothed. I fled away down the corridor before my hand was tempted to re-open the door.

I found Eowyn in the hall, her grief allayed somewhat by Theoden�s release and the tasks she now must oversee. A feast was being prepared for the morrow to follow the burial of Theodred and there was much to do.

�Rowannen, could you arrange to have fresh clothing taken to our guests?� She asked. �Gandalf requires none, but the others would benefit from something to wear whilst the laundress refreshes their travel stained robes. Black would be a good colour for our business this next day.� As I turned to go she stopped me with her voice.

�Rowannen,� she asked, �Do you believe in love at first sight?� I coloured with confusion. How did she know? Was I so obvious? Such shame was mine, to be feeling as I did, with Theodred still lying in the nearby chamber, his skin alabaster and his closed eyelids blue tinged. She looked at me strangely when I did not answer and shook her head a little turning back to her tasks.

�Nay do not answer me this at this time. It was foolish of me to have asked it.�
I knew my friend well, could read her expressions and her body and I suddenly realised that it was not myself she had been referring to at all. What new thought was this? I pondered as I went on my way.

I thought about their stature and build as I searched for some garments the travellers could use. Gimli was the most difficult. His height was but that of our older children yet his bulk and girth ensured that there was no attire available to suit his body. In desperation I took some of Hama�s black clothing, for my brother of late was expanding in girth, due to the quantity of ale he swilled no doubt. This I took to the seamstress with instructions to measure the dwarf and hem the garments as necessary.

For Aragorn, I raided Eomer�s wardrobe, which was in a jumbled state of disarray. Discarded boots and stray pieces of leather armour tangled with undergarments and gauntlets. It was high time Eomer chose himself a wife to help instil into him some tidier habits, or failing that, as I rather more suspected would be the case, to take care of it all for him. Finding no black amongst his more ceremonial clothing, but leggings and cloak of the darkest midnight blue and a shirt of cool linen in the softest dove grey, I folded them neatly. They would be perfect for Aragorn.

For Legolas, whose build was of a finer cast, I went to Theodred�s closet. Tears again sprang unbidden; as I touched his no longer needed clothing. The faint smell of him reached my nostrils and I buried my head amongst the folds of fabric, weeping uncontrollably. When I gathered my wits I took a long time to choose, for Theodred, as the Prince and heir of Rohan, possessed much fine apparel. I selected close woven leggings of dark thundercloud grey, a faint pattern of ripples worked into the grain of the fabric. The softest shirt I could find, in a shade of smoky, sage green flecked with darker hues and a newly woven cloak of the finest dark green wool, as dark as the yews in Fanghorn Forest. It was worked along the borders with curled and interwoven, never ending designs, as is our custom, in an even darker shade of ebony.
Balancing the piles of fabric on my arm, I knocked first on Aragorn�s door.

�Enter� came the command and I passed within.
Gimli was sprawled in the chair, a map upon his knees. Aragorn in the centre of the room puffing thoughtfully upon a long thin pipe. Legolas also stood there; his clean hair, newly braided, was a halo of light reflecting the sunset framed in the open window. The wind was abating and just a slight winter breeze snaked into the room. It blew my own newly brushed hair freely across my face and this time, for my hands were not free but laden, Legolas brought his fingers gently toward me and brushed the strands from my eyes.

How could I speak when he touched me so? I felt I no longer had the power to even stand. I wrested my eyes away from his smile and offered Aragorn his garments. He nodded his head to me in thanks, still lost in thought.

I held out the remaining clothing to Legolas and he took it carefully. He held up each item appraisingly, his fingers feeling the weight and weave.

�These seem as though they will fit very well,� he said. �The colours are very fitting for a sylvan Elf. Who chose them?�
I managed to keep my gaze upon him and not lower my eyes as I replied.

�I picked them out for you myself.�

I dared not believe it, perhaps all elves were this way but his smile seemed full of love as he bowed slightly to me. �Lle ume quell. You did well! Hannon lle.� Gimli watched us intently, his bright, beady eyes sparkled and a chuckle rose in his throat.

�I think it is time we retired for night.� Said the dwarf. �Many long nights have we travelled without pause and my body, for one is weary.�

He rose to go. Legolas also moved toward me and the door, but Aragorn caught his arm.

�Nay stay a little longer Legolas, there is something yet that troubles me, I would discuss with you.� I bade them all a good night and retreated from the chamber, casting a last glance at the Elf.

�Quel esta.� He called to me. ((Rest well))

I had thought that I would sleep soundly that night, my sleep having been disturbed for so long keeping watch with Theodred, but on retiring to my chamber, slumber still eluded me. I stood by the casement watching the clouds scud across the moon, the beams lighting like silver, the streams in the valley; the shadows, casting grey moving shades across the roofs of Edoras. I could see his elven smile, the angle of his mouth, the planes of his face, in my mind. I could still hear his sweet voice speaking his soft language in my ear. Where would this lead me? My life had been cast into turmoil these last days. Did I have any control of my future?

I must have dozed a little, for I woke at dawn to a grey overcast sky and no birdsong. A fitting sombre mood for what was to come. I dressed all in black, soft leather boots of rich ebony, a fine woollen dress the colour of coal and a warm cloak to keep out the chill of this day, the shade of water at midnight.

Aragorn was already in the hall, amongst many of our warriors, partaking of the fresh bread when I entered. He looked regal in his borrowed robes. Despite the sweet smell of the bread I felt I could not eat anything heavy and I selected a sweet red apple from the bowl. Turning into the hall my hand was stayed on the way to my mouth for Theodred lay there in state, ready on the bier for his body�s last journey. My throat closed, my stomach clenched and I replaced the apple from whence it came.
Gentle fingers brushed mine.

�Good morning, my lady. I hope you slept well?� Legolas�s calm voice came from behind me. He lifted the apple I had discarded and raised it to his lips. His eyes searched my face, noting the grief there

�May I accompany you today, Rowannen?� he asked gently.

I still could not find my voice through the restriction in my throat so I merely nodded. In the absence of Eomer an extra bearer was needed for the bier, so both my brothers would be occupied. Eowyn had her own duties to perform. I should be glad of someone for support and I was beginning to feel a little easier in his company. Perhaps today an Elf was what I needed. Something so new and unexpected to keep my mind from despair.

He turned me away from the centre of the hall and drew me to the window. He bit into the apple in his cupped hand.

�This is sweet.� he said, �Tell me where such fruit grows in your realm? Riding here was strange for me, so much empty grassland, many streams and rocks, great rings of mountains and hills, but so few trees! I do indeed miss the woodlands.�

I managed a smile and found I could speak again.

�There are many trees, Legolas.� I answered, �If you but know where to look. In secluded, south facing vales stand our orchards, from whence this sweet fruit was picked. We have apples, pears, plums, and for sharper fruit and hardier climes, the wilder trees, hawthorn, rowan, elder and sloe. Their blossom is fair to behold when the springtime comes to our borders. Also we have many nuts, Hazel, Sweet Chestnut and Almond all grow in sheltered spots.�

Legolas smiled, �I should like to see this, perhaps we could ride out together and you can show me.�

�I would be honoured, Legolas,� I answered him quietly, �but there is little to see at this bleak time of year, but bare branches.�

He smiled at me and again those thousand suns blazed into my being.
�That is no matter to me, an Elf of the woodland realm.� He said. �Any tree is a thing of beauty for me, at whatever time of the year.�

The sound of horns claimed our attention. Theodred and Eowyn entered, clad all in black. My hair was braided, caught in a long thick intricate plait that my fingers had worked in the grey light of dawn but Eowyn�s was caught tight in twists close to her head. She looked as sorrowful as I had ever seen her. My brothers and their companions of the guard stepped forward to grasp the handles of the bier. Their muscles flexed as they stooped to bear the burden and Theodred was lifted high, to begin his journey into everlasting dark.

They moved slowly through the hall. Theoden, his father, and Eowyn his cousin, preceding the corpse. I knew how much these two would miss Eomer this day. Sorrowful was the circumstance of this burial. Legolas took my arm as the procession passed by and with Gandalf, Aragorn and Gimli we joined behind with the nobles of the realm, to begin the long trail through the settlement to the burial ground.

I remember little of that slow walk, except the wailing of the townsfolk who joined the rear of the long coiling procession as we passed by their dwellings. Ever downward we trod and I was conscious of Legolas, a strong point to hold onto as he held my arm so gently, yet firmly. Careful to steer me so I did not slip on the stones, those cobbles still slick from the dew of a misty day. I prayed that my brothers kept their footing with their precious burden.

When at last we left the city and wound our way toward open country, voices began to rise into the air breaking the oppressive silence. Laments for Theodred were voiced. As we passed between the burial mounds, nine upon the left and seven upon the right, I saw Theoden falter and Gandalf took his arm. When we reached the Royal tomb, those of Theodred�s close companions still left alive from the massacre, slid away the great stone barrier and the gaping hole yawned dark and dire. A sob escaped my throat and Legolas drew me nearer to his body with an arm about my waist. I did not know if I could find comfort there.

With him I could, maybe, were my fear and awe of him conquered; but here he stood in Theodred�s garments, the scent still in my nostrils. He looked spectacular, more regal even than Theodred would have carried the clothes. The colours flowed around his being, the cut accentuated his form. He was splendid. I am sure that no-one else except perhaps Eowyn noticed how Legolas was clad, and this was some comfort. What had possessed me to give him such an emotional, intimate part of my lost Prince. Was it because I knew that this wondrous Prince of Mirkwood deserved the finest of clothing? Or was it because I wished to replace my so recently lost love?

Eowyn�s voice rang out clear and loud in the prayer for a lost Prince.
My brothers and their guard took Theodred into the dark interior of the tomb. Someone had pressed a bunch of Simbelmyne into his cold stiff hands above the sword. I closed my eyes and leaned against my saviour, unable to bear it longer and my nose drank in the scent of Theodred and Legolas combined. When the prayer ended the stone was rolled shut and Theodred was lost to us forever, entombed in the earth. He would be but a rotting corpse and a memory of fine promise, taken from us too soon.

King Theodon stepped before me and took my face in his hands.

�I have been distracted of late, and dark have been my dreams.� He said to me as the tears coursed down his cheeks. He kissed his lips to my forehead.
�Yet Eowyn tells me, there was love between you and my son. I wish you to know Rowannen, that I would have blessed this union had it come to fruition.�
He raised his head to the sky and his wails echoed over the Mark. Gandalf bent to place a hand on the shoulder of the grieving king.

�No parent should have to bury their child.� Theoden cried.

I felt anguish at his words. To know he would have taken delight in Theodred�s and my pairing was too much for my soul. The grandchildren he may have taken great pleasure in, but would now never be born, flashed across my vision. The last of his line was gone. I felt bereft. Turning to Legolas, I buried my face in his chest and wept. He held me close so tenderly and patiently. Theoden stood, attempting to regain his composure amongst his subjects who wept as freely as himself.

�Look after her Legolas.� he said, and fell to his knees yet again. Gandalf�s hand upon his shoulder.

When at last we could find strength again, the procession made it�s way back to Meduseld, chanting prayers as we walked. The people of the villages peeling away to their homesteads to deal with the Prince�s passing in their own fashion. Those of us of the nobility trudged ever upward to the Golden Hall. Legolas�s arm was tight around my body and kept me from falling into the dark realms of unassailable grief.

I did not know if my dizziness was caused by lack of food or the nearness of his body to me on this day. He did not speak, just supported me, concern in his eyes, until we were seated in a niche on the edge of the hall. A great golden tapestry graced the wall behind me and I leant against it, suddenly weary. Legolas brought me a platter of bread and cheese and a large goblet of warmed wine, heady with spices, but drank little himself. I felt strange, for surely it was I who should be waiting upon a guest, yet his care for me was soothing.
As I ate and drank he spoke to me.

�Tell me about the white flowers in Theodred�s hand, that grow so thickly over the grave barrows.� He asked. �So densely they grow, they were as drifts of snow.�

I nodded, �They are Simbelmyne, often known as Evermind for they remind us of the souls who sleep below. They have grown always upon the tombs. So long have they been upon the mounds that it is no longer recalled if they were planted there by men or grow naturally where the dead rest. We like to think it is natural. They blossom all throughout the year never failing.�

Legolas smiled, �They are indeed like countless stars or bright eyes amid the turf.�

Eowyn entered the hall with Aragorn, her face a mask of sorrow. I rose to go to her but the room swam and I nearly fell. Strong hands caught me and held me safe.

�Rowannen, you are not well?� asked Legolas.

�I am tired and faint only, from lack of sleep these past days.� I said, �Presently I will recover.�

�Not without rest.� He replied �Come I will take you to your chamber.�

I moved to walk forward and again the world tilted. Legolas swept me with ease into his arms and carried me from the hall. Many astonished faces followed his stride. At the door Hama stepped before him, a concerned expression on his countenance. At Legolas�s calm explanation he directed him to my rooms.

So gently he laid me against the pillows, removing my cloak with a sweep of his hand.

�Thank you.� Was all I managed to whisper.

Carefully he pulled the boots from my feet and set them next to the bed. Then to my amazement he began to stroke my toes. He took each one in turn and massaged and rolled it between his fingers gently. I felt the warmth from the charge of his exquisite fingers thrill across my skin and relaxation radiated up my spine. Mayhap it was the effect of the wine but it felt surreal to me. So much had life changed and so quickly. Here I lay upon my bed, my future suddenly an empty page, with the first Elf I had ever met, stroking my bare feet and affecting me intensely. His fingers left my toes and cupping each foot in the palm of his hand, his thumbs and the pads of his fingers pressed firmly but gently, describing circles on the soles of my feet. My relaxation increased and I felt myself almost falling asleep.

Before my eyelids closed, Legolas moved up the bed and sat beside my pillows. I could not speak but reached my hand toward him. The first time I had dared voluntarily to touch his body of my own will. My fingers stroked across his chest feeling the firm warm muscle beneath Theodred�s shirt of soft green. Legolas touched my hair and gently drew my braid from my neck, unclipping the ornate fastening at its tip he began to unwind my tresses, his fingers ever closer to my face.

I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to taste him with my tongue but I was so tired I could not pull him toward me and he did not bend closer. He simply stroked my hair and fanned it out around me on the pillow.

�Sleep well, Lirimaer.� ((Lovely one)) he said quietly, �Tomorrow come ride with me.� and then he was gone.

I slipped into oblivion and slept through the long evening and all of the night like a child and any dreams I had were of his voice.

LEGOLAS:

It has been a long day. Until the moon was high in the sky we have talked with Theoden about the threat of Saruman. Gandalf and Aragorn have tried to persuade him to recall Eomer and face the threat directly, with open war. It will come to this at the end but Theoden is undecided yet.

�When last I looked, Theoden not Aragorn was king of Rohan,� the King snapped at my friend, as Aragorn began to lose his patience with him.
Tomorrow they will no doubt resume discussion and plan tactics, but I will not be present for all. I shall take Rowannen and ride out into the wild with her. She needs to have some freedom from the oppression clouding this place.

For now I shall sleep. Last night found me staring at the moon, an image of her face before my mind. Why does she intrigue me so? Never before have I felt such connection with a mortal woman, nor indeed such desire for one. Last night she brought me the clothes I wore today, I have not had chance to thank her properly. Picked out by herself, I could tell they once belonged to the Prince, from their fine weave and quality. She had chosen with care knowing what would please me, yet I thought she had offered me these because I was a Prince myself. Today I learn that she was promised to Theodred. That she gave me his clothes, that has some import, if she realised it consciously or not.

I know that she could be mine, so easily could I take her. The fire burns in my loins whenever I think of her. Before she fell asleep with her hair spread around her fine face, her lips parted and her breath was sweet. How I did not bend to kiss her and drown myself in her depths I will never know, but I must exercise caution. She would have become Princess, and then Queen of Rohan, her whole world is overthrown. What can I offer her? An elven prince from a far off realm, pledged to this quest and fellowship to be a warrior, until the outcome of all things, whatever they may be?
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WEST WIND OVER EDORAS